A Scientist in a Magician's Court
by Pixel.the.Square
Summary: Harry has grown up thinking that logic and science can explain everything, but soon he finds out just how much these things can't explain. With the introduction of magic, he takes a different view on life. (Rational!HP fic)
1. A Most Unusual Day

A black haired, wiry boy laid on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He had just awoken, his eyes opening gently as he felt the warmth of the sun peeking through his window. He carefully reached over to retrieve his glasses from the nightstand, where they had been carefully placed the night before. He sat up while putting them on, giving him the clarity he needed to see his room.

It was a fairly empty room, yet somehow it was still a mess. Against the wall was a small bookcase, with well-worn books haphazardly shoved in to make them fit. It wasn't a very large collection of books, just what his family could afford for him but he still loved them. They were on a variety of subjects, from robotics to film and even some on more advanced mathematics, at least advanced for a ten year old.

He'd been intending to straighten it up for quite some time, but every time he pulled the books off the shelf with the intent to straighten it up, he couldn't help but rereading particular sections. He had left piles of dirty laundry that should have been taken out at least a few days ago amongst the piles of books his small shelf simply could not hold. The floor that was showing appeared clean, but the science books he read had ruined that illusion for him. He thought of all the dust and dirt on the floor that he couldn't see, and he immediately tried to find something to distract himself with.

The desk, which was situated near the corner by the door, held a number of notebooks, which had piled up over the years of recording observations. A few papers laid scattered on the part of the desk not filled with notebooks. He recalled a certain experiment he'd been conducting o the favorite foods of some local caterpillars. He knew it didn't qualify as something overly scientific, but it was something to test the scientific method on, even if some steps had to be removed.

The wall on his right had various charts posted, all of which depicted the stars from his observations out the window at night. On the opposite wall on his closet doors hung a number of posters full of useful information for aspiring scientists. From the periodic table of elements to the makeup of atoms themselves, the posters gave him quite a bit of knowledge at his fingertips, or rather, on the wall. He smiled as his fell on them, remembering all the hours spent poring over them, trying to memorize the contents.

He sighed, shaking his head at the mess. He swung his legs over the side of his bed and got up. He made a quick laundry run as he headed for the door, picking up what he could. He walked quickly down the stairs, considering for a moment the idea of jumping down the last few steps. While it was perhaps childish, he was still a child and decided to make the jump. He landed with a satisfying thump and deposited his laundry in the laundry basket and made his way back up to his room.

In his haste to collect the rest of his laundry from his room, he accidentally tripped on an unseen book just inside his door. He cursed himself for avoiding it on his way out yet tripping on it on the way in. It was then that he realized that perhaps he should have hit the ground already. He knew that in situations of duress, one would feel like the world was moving in slow motion. It was the first time he had experienced it, but it took him but a second to realize that he was actually falling much slower than he should be. It was quite a strange feeling.

Upon his gentle landing, he laid there for a moment, pondering what had just happened. Could it have been a dream? No, every time he fell in a dream, he ended up falling much farther than he thought possible, like the motion was exaggerated somehow. He got up, still staring at the floor where he had fallen. Would it happen again? He walked out and walked back in, taking extra care to trip on the book. Unfortunately, the fall didn't repeat in such a slow fashion and he found himself rubbing his hand that he had used to break his fall.

It was a curious thing, but it wasn't the first experience he'd had with this sort of thing. He remembered once while he was getting chased by bullies, he suddenly found himself on a roof, out of their reach. Still in a state of shock mixed with disbelief, he walked over to his desk. He looked at the various colour-coded notebooks. There were at least a few in each colour, but he ignored them and instead reached behind the notebooks and pulled out a solitary, dark blue notebook.

He opened it up to the marked page about a quarter of the way in and started reading the entry before it, noting the gap between it and the event that had just occurred. It had been just over two weeks since the last of the strange occurrences. He couldn't help but flip through the entries before that. The longer he looked at the dates the more he felt there was something about them. Some quick mental math confirmed that the events had been getting more and more frequent. He flipped back to the marked page and began writing.

"July 17, 1991:

Today the most odd of occurrences happened. I was walking into my room and in my haste I tripped over a book hidden from my view. Instead of falling at a normal speed and hitting the ground in less than a second, I fell at a slowed pace. It took many seconds for me to land gently on the ground.

I thought it could possibly be related to the spot I fell and I attempted to fall at the slowed pace by tripping over the book again, but it was unsuccessful. I fell at a normal pace, resulting in minor injury. The most likely explanation is a temporary gravitational anomaly. However, this is quite improbable and I can offer no explanation for it."

He closed the notebook and stashed it away behind the others. He got back up and put away the book he'd tripped over. He paused for a moment, looking at the book. It was ordinary, just like the dozens of other books in his room, yet it had made his day rather unusual. He shook his head to clear his mind and focus more on the task at hand, the state of his room. It had to be cleaned. A dirty workspace was not a good workspace.

About an hour later he was standing in his doorway, admiring his work. It kind of bothered him that the surfaces in his room could perhaps be less cluttered, but at least now he wouldn't be tripping on anything for a few days. He shut the door behind him as he went back downstairs to get some breakfast for himself. He found his aunt and uncle, his adoptive parents, sitting at the table, staring at a lone letter sitting on the table before them.

As he sat down, they looked up at him, somewhat surprised at his appearance at the table. No one said anything for quite a few moments, as if the letter carried great importance to the family. He went over and got himself some toast and eggs from the counter. He ate in silence, staring at his uncle, who seemed to be staring back at him the entire time. Just before he got up, his uncle, who was called Vernon, finally spoke.

"Harry, this letter," he said, holding it up, "I've never quite liked the idea of you getting it, but Petunia, she… she…"

"I insisted that you had the right to know. I don't like it just as much as your uncle, but we knew this day would come, ever since we found you on our doorstep."

With that Vernon handed him his letter quite slowly, as if he still wasn't entirely sure he should be reading it. Harry was quite taken aback. They had mentioned how they had come to be his guardians only once, but they'd never mentioned a letter or anything. He found himself both terrified by the prospect of this development, and insatiably curious about it.

He looked at the front. In an emerald-green ink was his name. Now that he'd had a moment to process it all, the letter was heavy and made of a yellowish parchment. He took a moment to read the front, just to make sure it was indeed for him.

"Mr. H Potter  
Upstairs Bedroom  
4 Privet Drive  
Little Whining  
Surrey"

He told himself that he was being ridiculous, trembling at a plain letter. He turned it over and took a moment to examine the wax seal on it. The seal depicted a coat of arms of sorts; a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large H. He paused to think about it. He had seen many coats of arms in encyclopedias, but this one did not look familiar at all. He finally opened the letter and unfolded it. It read,

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)"

Harry had to stop reading to fully comprehend what he had just read. He reread it three more times, just to make sure what he was reading was right. A school for witchcraft and wizardry? Wasn't magic just something from fairy tales? No, this was simply not possible. Or was it? He thought of the dark blue notebook hidden in his room. Perhaps there was an explanation for the events accounted for in them. He continued reading.

"Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Given your muggle-raised status, we shall send someone to explain.

Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment, which shall be explained. Term begins on September 1, expect the visitor before July 31. He or she shall send word of your decision to us."

He had to set the letter down. It went against his entire upbringing. Was it some sort of elaborate prank pulled by Petunia and Vernon? He glanced up at them, but Petunia was biting her lip, unsure of whether or not it had been a good idea. Vernon was wearing a look of apprehension, perhaps with a hint of anger. He stared at them, looking for some tip off that it was just a joke. When there was none, he picked up his letter and finished reading.

"Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress"

Between the lines was the looping and elegant signature of McGonagall. He didn't know exactly what to do. He folded the letter and put it away, his mind reeling from this recent development. Eventually Vernon spoke up and after the silence, it took Harry by surprise.

"Err- Harry, about this letter..."

His voice trailed off, but suddenly he became furious as his face grew red. He resumed speaking, this time in a low and hoarse whisper.

"I tried to stomp it out of you. I gave you science and math. I wanted you to never know about your mother's kind. Those books were a distraction!"

Harry was taken aback by his sudden aggression. How long had he been carrying this around? Vernon cut through Harry's thoughts as he resumed his menacing speech.

"For 11 years I took care of you when no one else would. This magic nonsense is a joke! I will not have you learn it! Go back to your science and math boy! Forget you saw this letter!"

By this point Vernon was almost yelling, which caused Harry's adopted brother, Dudley, to storm downstairs.

"Daddy why are yelling? Did Harry do something bad?"

Harry looked over at him and noticed that Dudley was ever so slightly happy at the thought if Harry in trouble. It used to bother him as a younger child but now he realized how idiotic it was. Petunia cut in, trying to redirect the conversation.

"Duddy-kins, why don't you come down for breakfast while Mommy, Daddy, and Harry talk?"

All it had taken was the mention of food for Dudley to become sufficiently motivated to charge down the stairs. He was a pudgy boy who ate quite a food and as Harry knew from both his appearance and his health book that what he ate was too much. As Harry pondered how exactly Dudley ate so much, Vernon spoke out.

"Petunia darling, I think we'd better go talk in the other room... Alone."

It was quite clear that Vernon wasn't going to have a particularly pleasant talk with Petunia. Even as they left, harry heard the beginnings of a whispered argument.

"Mum and Dad aren't fighting are they?"

Harry sometimes felt bad for Dudley. It wasn't that he was perhaps slower than a boy his age should be, but rather he knew that he could be smart. In fact, harry had a number of notebooks dedicated to Dudley. Harry always tried to help Dudley with his homework as a kind gesture between brothers. From the many sessions he knew that with the proper guidance, Dudley was bright, though he was a slow learner. After thinking about the best way to handle the situation tactfully, Harry answered him.

"Don't worry Dudley, it's just about my school."

It wasn't a lie nor was it the full truth. He didn't think Dudley would handle it too well if he straight up told him he was a wizard. He wanted to get Dudley away from his parents before he figured out what exactly was going on. Vernon made a sudden entrance with a smile on his face. Whatever argument they had in the other room, it was clear that he had won. He picked up Harry's letter and threw it away.

Harry got up to leave the table as Vernon sat down to resume his breakfast. He didn't want a confrontation right now, he had a lot to think about. So it was that he washed his dishes and retreated back to his room. He flopped onto his bed with the dark blue notebook and began flipping through the pages. He wanted some answers, no matter how far fetched they seemed. All he had to was wait less than 2 weeks and then he'd know. He couldn't help but smile, this was going to be interesting...

 _A/N: This is just a side project of mine, though expect frequent updates. (Once a week+)_


	2. Possibilities and an Awkward Birthday

_A/N: I got impatient waiting. Enjoy! As a side note, I fixed Harry's incorrect birthday.  
_

Harry was lying on his bed, paging through his dark blue notebook, as he had been doing a lot more frequently in the past week He didn't know quite what to think about magic being explained to him. He read through the pages, trying to find a connection between them. It had already been months since he'd figured out that the events in his dark blue book only happened under times of extreme duress. Other than that fact, he could find nothing significant. He sighed and stowed away the notebook, knowing Vernon would be furious with him if he discovered it.

Ever since that letter had arrived and Harry had read it, things had been tense in the Dursley household. Vernon had taken to pretending that the letter never came at all. He went about his business as usual, though he occasionally looked at Harry with a little more contempt than usual. Harry, upon reflection, thought that perhaps he would forget about the whole thing all together. Dudley hadn't changed at all, since he wasn't even aware that Harry had received the letter. Harry noted in his Dudley notebook that the most likely truth was that Dudley couldn't figure out there was tension.

Petunia had really done nothing new as well. Although Harry caught her staring out the window more and more often, perhaps thinking back to her sister, Harry's mother. It was at this time that Harry felt a little ashamed of himself. He'd always been too wrapped up in his science and the odd occurrences around him to even spare a thought for his parents. Though given the latest event related to them, Harry knew that right now was definitely not the time to ask his aunt and uncle about it. All he could do was wait for the visitor to arrive and explain everything.

He took a moment one day to dig deep and try to recall something, anything about his parents. After several minutes all he came up with was a flash of green light and a burning sensation on his forehead. He reached up, touching the scar on his forehead. He hadn't even realized that he'd forgotten about it. Not once in ten years had it ever pained him as it did then. He gingerly traced the lightning-bolt shape on his forehead. He pulled out his dark blue notebook and made a quick note to ask whoever was coming about it.

It was on July 29 that Harry was beginning to get really worried. He had really been hoping to talk to someone about the strange things that had happened to him. At the same time, there'd been a noticeable shift in Vernon as the two week deadline drew closer and closer. He became slightly happier, thinking that whoever it was that was supposed to show up would never show up. But it was on this day that Vernon and Petunia actually surprised him. He had walked downstairs to get breakfast as usual when Vernon talked to him for the first time in a number of days.

"Err- Harry, about your birthday. We want to know what you want…"

Vernon wasn't quite talking to Harry but rather talking to the floor. Harry reasoned that if they did something a little more for his birthday, he wouldn't be so keen on learning about magic. But for the moment, Harry was confused that his uncle even would suggest that they would give him any choice in his birthday. Most years he was given a small cake and a pair of wooly socks, which were always too big. Harry suspected they were a hand-me-down from Vernon.

"Harry dear, answer your uncle."

Apparently his racing thoughts had taken up more time than he'd thought, for Petunia had joined the conversation. She seemed timid, as if she'd been forced into this by Vernon. It was quite odd that they were both paying attention to him at this very moment. Unlike Dudley, he did not exist for the sole purpose to be catered on by his aunt and uncle. Perhaps that was a bit harsh, they _had_ been taking care of him without too much complaint. Vernon had been about to speak when Harry cut him off.

"I think I'd like a chocolate cake…"

It was something to behold to Harry. Whenever Dudley had a birthday, it involved weeks of planning and many consultations with Dudley. In fact, his most recent one had been shortly before he had gotten his letter. Dudley had received no less than thirty-nine presents from his parents and his various relatives. The whole day's scheduled events had been ingrained into Harry's brain from the sheer volume of meetings with it as the subject. It was a day at the zoo with the entire route planned out.

That by itself wasn't overly exciting so he just walked up to his room, still in a state of shock. He pulled the black notebook to the far right of the others, the one that he was working on and opened it to the appropriate page. It was where he wrote down noteable things that happened between him and his aunt and uncle. Thumbing through the last couple pages, he concluded that nothing of real interest had ever taken place between them. Looking at the date of the last entry, he noted that it had been quite some time since something had happened, on account of his aunt and uncle ignoring him as of late.

"July 30, 1991:

Today a most odd incident occurred. As it is almost my birthday, which is tomorrow, Petunia and Vernon have just today asked me what kind of cake I would like. While it may seem like something all parents should do, it is something they have never once done before. I suspect that it has something to do with the letter I received approximately two weeks ago regarding magic. I believe this is their way of saying that they want me to forget about it."

He shelved it back where it belonged amongst the others and leaned back in his chair, frowning. For whatever reason he couldn't quite believed the events had happened as they did, it wasn't like them to talk to him about his birthday. But he dismissed it, thinking back to that letter. It had been thrown away by Vernon and he had gone the extra mile to make sure Harry didn't read it again. It was already at the dump, conceivably buried, as Vernon made a special trip just for that purpose. On top of that, it became taboo to even reference it, also courtesy of Vernon.

But what was it that made him hate and fear magic? Had he not been raising him to forget it and focus on science? Harry didn't have that hatred of magic like his uncle and aunt, now that he thought about it. There was something alluring about it, something that made him willing to accept its existence. Perhaps it could be that it was a link to his parents. Petunia had only ever mentioned once that Harry's parents were magical and even that wasn't said to him directly.

He laughed to himself, not wanting to disturb his adopted parents. He had been raised to be a scientist, a rational person, yet it was this reason that he wanted to know about magic. His mind had been molded to be curious about the world around him, and this was a chance to explain much of the indeed it was real, it could provide a wide array of experiments, not like the boring caterpillars he kept in his room. To know that it was real, to know that there were some things science couldn't answer but magic could!

He got up and began pacing excitedly. His mind raced with the infinite paths this would lead to, the things he could do! Not once had he ever been this excited by the mere prospect of something. The closest was when Vernon had announced that he'd be purchasing a set of encyclopedias for the family. They'd given him so much knowledge at his disposal. Though Vernon claimed it was for the family, no one but Harry had even acknowledged them. Vernon would never openly admit that he had done something for Harry alone.

He took a few deep breaths to calm himself down, none of that would ever matter or even be mentioned again if the visitor didn't show up. He hated having so much rest on something so uncertain. Harry had always liked to have things concrete, things that were certain. Then again, if magic was real, Harry might have to find himself leaving the solid behind as he ventured into the realm of magic, which was unknown to him. He went down to face the day. After all, why shouldn't he be happy? It _was_ his birthday tomorrow.

After a long day of taking care of chores and the usual things, he collapsed into his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He wanted to sleep, to see the next day sooner, but his mind wouldn't rest on the subject of magic. Harry thought it would be quite rude if the visitor waited to come until the last possible moment. He knew there was still a day after that, but he was hoping that it was indeed the next day that he would get answers. That was what he wanted for his birthday. That and maybe some chocolate cake.

The next morning, Harry walked down to the dining room in the early hours. He hadn't been able to conquer his apprehension and in the end, he fell into a shallow sleep. He sat at the table, staring out the window, watching the sun rise over his street. It was quite pleasant, but he wanted those answers. Within a few minutes of the sun rising, Vernon and Petunia came downstairs, both of them looking quite tired. They barely acknowledged his existence as Petunia got some tea, toast, and eggs ready. Vernon found his voice after some tea.

"Happy birthday Harry…"

Vernon wasn't quite so enthusiastic about the date. He had wished Harry a happy birthday in a tone that made it seem like he was talking about the least extraordinary thing he'd ever discussed.

"Thanks…"

The word didn't feel right coming out of Harry's mouth, for it was a word he'd seldom used in all his years there. They sat quietly at the table for quite some time, Petunia and Vernon doing their best to not say a word to Harry. Dudley came down and mumbled a quick, "Happy birthday," before sitting down with a plate full of eggs and toast. It was something Dudley had never done before and Harry had the sneaking suspicion that Vernon and Petunia had talked him into it.

It was an awkward day as Petunia and Vernon tried their hardest to make the day both special and not special at all for Harry. It was a day filled with terse, stilted conversation, no one quite sure what exactly to say or do. It was treated as an average day, except Harry's adopted parents were struggling to treat Harry as their child. Harry felt equally awkward as he struggled to find the right actions or even words to respond to his aunt and uncle.

Just after lunch, Petunia brought out Harry's cake. Petunia, it seemed, had gone out of her way to find the smallest, least adequate cake she could. Harry couldn't help but wonder how much trouble she'd gone through to find such a small cake. Vernon silently handed Harry a knife and he took it. He automatically cut off a decent piece of the tiny cake and put it on a plate. He offered it to Dudley as he didn't dare break the tradition of Dudley having the largest piece of cake regardless of whose birthday it was.

Their celebration was cut short by a knock on the door. Vernon went to the door and Harry followed. He couldn't help but hope that it was the person he'd been wanting to meet for the past two weeks. Vernon opened the door and jumped back, for a man who didn't look like he could fit inside the door was standing just outside.

"Hello 'Arry, it's been a while."


End file.
